


I'll Look After You

by quiettimenotriottime



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fingering, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Steve Rogers, Possibly mild dub-con, Self-Lubrication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-23 21:54:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12517388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiettimenotriottime/pseuds/quiettimenotriottime
Summary: When Steve’s in heat, all Bucky wants in the whole wide world is to take care of him.





	I'll Look After You

When Steve’s in heat, all Bucky wants in the whole wide world is to take care of him. He comes home from the docks late one night, smelling of fish and filth, to find the apartment is saturated in heat-scent. Bucky wants to take off all his clothes and just roll around in it.

He finds Steve in their bed, his golden head the only part of him visible amidst a nest of sheets and blankets and Bucky’s undershirts. Bucky approaches him like he would a wild deer: carefully, treading softly on the balls of his feet. He kneels by the bedside and tries very hard to resist the temptation to climb into the nest alongside Steve and rub his scent glands all over him.

“Hey, Stevie,” Bucky says softly, stroking Steve’s sweaty hair back from his forehead. The fevers have already started, and Steve is shivering violently beneath his many blankets.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve says. His voice has dropped into that low, raspy register that makes the hairs on the back of Bucky's neck stand up. “Sorry I started without you.”

Bucky flicks his ear gently. “None of that,” he says softly. “How are you feeling?”

Steve manages a weak smile. “I’ve been worse.”

Bucky shakes his head fondly. “Let me help you sit up and I’ll get you something to drink.” He puts a strong arm around Steve’s shoulders and manoeuvres him into position, then fluffs up his pillows for him. Then he pours a glass of water and rubs circles onto Steve’s hand as he drinks it.

“Better?” He asks when Steve’s done, and Steve nods, the colour still high on his cheeks. Bucky gets a cloth from one of the kitchen drawers and runs it under some cool water. He lays it gently across Steve’s forehead and takes up his hand again, pressing a kiss to the first two knuckles. “Do you think you can eat something? There’s some casserole left over from last night.”

Steve frowns, pulling Bucky’s hand to him and kissing over the palm. “Don’t wanna. Come to bed with me instead.” He looks up at Bucky through his long, long lashes and starts licking the scent gland on his wrist, breathing him in with his mouth half-open. Bucky’s breath hitches.

“Steve,” Bucky says, firm. “You gotta eat now, doll, cause you ain’t going to want to later.”

Steve makes a little growly noise and bites down on Bucky’s scent gland, not hard enough to break the skin, but still enough to make Bucky shudder all over and release a shaky groan. Thank the lord he’s not in rut right now, otherwise he’s pretty sure they’d both starve to death.

He growls deep in his chest, a low rumbling sound. “Steve,” he says sharply. “Let go.”

Resentfully, Steve opens his mouth and watches sulkily as Bucky takes the casserole out of the icebox and sets it to simmer on the stove. Bucky feels Steve’s eyes like a brand on the back of his neck. It should set him on edge, but it just makes him feel cared for and loved and owned. It makes him want to cock his hip and bare his throat to show off his bondmark to the whole world. Besides, it’s not like Bucky’s any less possessive over Steve during his rut, crowding Steve into corners and force feeding him donuts because he looks too skinny and gnawing on his neck until it blooms into purple and yellow bruises.

Bucky fetches five glasses and fills them with water before placing them carefully on the milk crate by the bed. Steve wraps one slim hand around the meat of Bucky’s thigh while he’s bending over and mouths at the skin behind Bucky’s right knee. Bucky almost knocks all the water onto the floor.

“Come to bed,” Steve croons, resting his forehead against Bucky’s thigh. Bucky reaches back and cards his fingers through Steve’s hair.

“Soon,” Bucky promises hoarsely, not unaffected by Steve’s attentions or by the pheromones flooding the room. “Let me get everything ready first.”

He goes to the door and checks that it’s locked, lodging a chair under the knob just in case. Then he does the same thing with the windows. He goes to check on the casserole and pulls out two bowls and a pair of spoons, setting them on the kitchen table with a soft “click.”

When the casserole is heated through, he serves out two portions and switches the stove off. He wolfs his own serving down as quickly as possible, standing over the sink, and carries Steve’s serving into the bedroom, moving the glasses of water around before setting the bowl down on the milk crate.

“Budge up,” Bucky says, nudging Steve’s shoulder. Steve wriggles over obligingly and lifts the blankets so Bucky can crawl under them. He wraps an arm around Steve’s shoulders and lets him lean against his chest. “That’s better,” Bucky says, kissing Steve softly on the mouth, his right hand coming up to cradle the base of Steve’s skull. Steve sighs quietly into the kiss, planting a possessive hand in the middle of Bucky’s chest.

Eventually they resurface. Steve traces the shape of Bucky’s smile with his thumb. “You always did have the prettiest smile, Buck.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “You sure do know how to sweet-talk a girl.”

Steve hides his smile in Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky yelps, remembering the casserole. “I almost forgot.” He leans over to fetch the bowl and spoon before lifting Steve bodily with his left hand under his rump.

Steve rolls his eyes theatrically. “I can feed myself, you know,” he says sardonically.

“I know,” says Bucky, “But I just wanna feed you up, know that I’m the one providing for you. Won’tcha let me do that, Stevie? C’mon, let me spoil you.”

Steve rolls his blue, blue eyes again and shrugs.

“Atta boy,” says Bucky warmly, dipping the spoon in the casserole and bringing it to Steve’s lips. He watches attentively as Steve swallows spoonful after spoonful, stealing a kiss every now and then. By the time the bowl is empty they have their tongues in each other’s mouths and Bucky is moaning quietly while Steve makes soft, animal sounds, little whines and grunts and growls that make Bucky’s dick twitch in his slacks.

Steve pulls away, gasping, resting his head against Bucky’s chest. His skin burns to the touch, sticky with sweat all over and flushed an attractive rose colour. Steve has pale, almost translucent skin, so when he blushes the blood shows vividly through. He’s trembling, whether from the fevers or the kissing Bucky’s not sure, rubbing his scent glands all over Bucky’s chest. “Mine,” he growls, draping himself possessively over Bucky’s lap.

“Yeah pal, I’m all yours,” Bucky murmurs, dropping butterfly kisses over Steve’s cheeks, nose and eyelids.

Steve gasps wetly, rubbing his burgeoning erection against Bucky’s thigh. “Bucky.”

“Oh darling, just like that,” Bucky moans. “Christ, you’re so good.”

“Bucky, I can’t stand it,” Steve cries. “Knot me. Please. I need it. Need it so bad.”

“Not yet,” Bucky says, rubbing a soothing hand over Steve’s wet bottom. “I think you need to come a couple of times first. Would you like that? Get you all nice and loose for me before I knot you?”

Steve’s head thunks heavily onto Bucky’s chest as he fretfully shakes his head. “No. I want it now.” He wriggles a hand between them and wraps it around Bucky’s cock, giving it a tight squeeze.

Bucky growls and bites into the meat of Steve’s shoulder warningly. “I said no,” he says tightly, seizing Steve’s wrist. Steve only grips harder, an answering growl rumbling in his throat.

Bucky clamps a hand around the back of Steve’s neck. Steve whimpers, his hand falling by his side. “Seems like you need to be taught a lesson. Do I need to take you over my knee again?”

He really hopes the answer to that is no. Bucky has only ever had to do it once before, and they both hated it. Steve wouldn’t speak to him for days afterwards.

“No,” Steve says mulishly, avoiding eye contact.

“Hey, look at me,” Bucky says, grasping Steve’s chin with his free hand and forcing Steve to meet his eyes. "I ain’t gonna let you hurt yourself just cause you can’t exercise a little patience. It’s just you and me here, you don’t gotta prove nothing to nobody. All you gotta do is take what I give you. We clear?”

Steve releases a shaky breath. “Yes, Bucky,” he grumbles, his body losing some of its tension. Steve always fights him at first, but Bucky wouldn’t change that for anything, especially when it makes his submission all the sweeter.

“Good boy,” Bucky praises him, licking into Steve’s mouth and slipping a finger between Steve’s cheeks and into his swollen hole.

Steve cries out and comes, as easy as that, gasping around Bucky’s tongue and jerking against his chest. Steve makes the most beautiful sounds when he comes, long, drawn out moans that seem to be dragged from the pit of his stomach up into his throat. Bucky could come just from listening to Steve moan.

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” Bucky says, stroking Steve’s sweaty hair back from his forehead and rocking him gently like a child.

“Uhhhn,” says Steve, still shivering with the aftershocks.

Bucky keeps rocking him, whispering sweet nothings into his good ear, until he hears Steve’s breathing start to pick up again. It doesn’t take long. Steve refractory period during heat is pretty much non-existent.

He turns Steve sideways on his lap like a bride, smoothing his hand down his heaving chest. “That’s it, sweetheart, just breathe for me.” He gives Steve’s dick a few long, slow pumps.

“Bucky,” Steve whimpers, curling into Bucky’s side and trying to close his legs, still a little sensitive, so Bucky bypasses his dick and moves on to fondling his balls. Steve has lovely little balls, soft and satiny, a perfect little handful.

“Oh, look at you, babydoll. How’d you get to be so sweet? Letting me take care of you like this, it’s the best thing in the whole wide world." 

Bucky massages Steve’s perineum with his knuckles, listening to his sweet little gasps. In the low light, Steve shimmers like a jewel, the sweat on his skin gleaming. Bucky’s never seen anything so enticing. He tucks the thumb of his right hand into Steve’s moist cleft and tests the give of his hole. Steve’s soft and swollen as a ripe peach, yielding.

If there’s one thing that’s guaranteed to get Bucky hot, it’s bringing Steve repeatedly over the edge while he himself doesn’t get to come until much later. All Bucky wants is to treat Steve nice. Take care of him. Worship him with hands and mouth until he’s soft and pliant, all the fight fucked outta him. It’s paradoxical and irrational, but there it is. 

Steve hates it. Hates the lack of control, the being coddled and catered to and treated like something beautiful and fragile. Steve likes to approach sex like he approaches a fight, going in guns blazing, completely disregarding his own personal safety. If Bucky let Steve have his way, he’d shove Bucky down into the sheets without so much as a by your leave and ride him ‘til dawn. And Bucky knows from experience that while that may be what Steve wants, it sure as hell ain’t what Steve needs. 

By the time Bucky’s got two fingers thrusting smoothly in and out of Steve’s hole, Steve’s eyes are red, bitter, frustrated tears clinging to his lashes.

“Come on Bucky, come on, give it to me already, won’t you?”

Bucky just presses his fingertips firmly into Steve’s front wall on the next pass so they slide over his prostate and up into that secret place he can only properly reach with his cock. Steve sobs miserably and throws an arm over his face, his sweaty chest glittering in the low light. He’s close; Bucky can tell by the way he digs his left heel into the small of his back.

“That’s it, Steve, just let go, come on,” Bucky croons, screwing him faster, the wet, fleshy sounds sending little shockwaves through his dick.

“I can’t," Steve moans petulantly. "I won’t."

“You can,” Bucky says, merciless. “You will.”

Steve snarls and comes, all over his stomach and chest, all over Bucky’s hand and wrist in soft wet pulses. Then he breaks into heaving sobs.

Bucky rubs his hands up and down his sides.

“Good boy. You needed it bad, huh?”

Steve glares at him through his fingers. “I hate you.”

“I know buddy.”

Bucky lies with him until the shaking stops, then goes to get a wet cloth to clean Steve up with. Steve lets him clean his stomach, chest and thighs and put him in his nightshirt with almost no complaining. He even lets Bucky cuddle him a little and smooth his hair back from his sweaty forehead. 

Later he’ll let Steve have what he wants, but for now, he’s content just to lie here with Steve, tracing sloppy patterns into the skin of his thigh and listening to the irregular thump of his heartbeat, the sweetest sound in the world.


End file.
